


Cleansing

by desrouleaux



Category: Joker (2019)
Genre: Deleted Bathtub Scene, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:47:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21879844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/desrouleaux/pseuds/desrouleaux
Summary: Randall is dead; Arthur has killed him and he feels – nothing, really. It’s justice, Randall deserved it. But he has to focus on his performance now; get ready and go. Arthur looks down on his chest; there’s blood. Randall’s blood.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	Cleansing

**Author's Note:**

> • Warnings/Info: The scene takes place after Arthur kills Randall and lets Gary leave. | Mentions of blood; violence, self-harm & suicide.
> 
> → I did some research and according to Todd Phillips, the bathtub scene was not pornographic! Therefore, I did not put smut in it (I’m sorry!), but I might add it to other versions (:

Arthur closes the door behind Gary and looks down at his chest. It’s sprinkled with Randall’s blood – just as his hand is covered in it and it’s already dripping on the floor.

He gazes at the corpse of his ex-coworker briefly and sighs before he turns to walk into the kitchen.

However, before he grabs the nearest cloth to clean up, he turns on his heels and walks towards the bathroom. He walks over Randall casually and steps into the puddle of blood which is steadily increasing and slowly soaking through the rug in the hall.

Arthur doesn’t mind that he is barefooted. He is going to take a bath anyway.

He turns the volume of his radio louder and feels the music again as he dances into the bathroom.

His bloody footsteps are now scattered on the pink bathroom tiles, but it doesn’t bother him. It’s just Randall’s blood after all.

While the hot water runs and steams up the small bathroom, Arthur slides off his blue slacks along with his white skivvies. His tongue darts out between his lips and the taste of white paint mixed with blood coats his tongue instantly, but Arthur is familiar with that flavor. It just so happens that it is not his own blood filling his mouth this time.

He turns to look at himself in the mirror.

His freshly dyed green strands of hair are sticking to his face; partly because of the white makeup, partly because of the beads of sweat on his forehead.

Killing Randall with a pair of scissors wasn’t easy and it left Arthur panting at first, but there is this intoxicating feeling of power rushing through him again. He managed to overpower a man more than double his weight and Arthur is finally realizing that he is very capable and stronger than he looks.

A toothy grin creeps on his face slowly before he lets out a chuckle that builds up in volume as he grips the sink with both hands; smearing blood all over it.

Arthur reaches out to the fogged up mirror and draws on a smiley face before he walks over to the bathtub, still cackling lowly, and he sinks into the water without testing the temperature first.

It’s burning hot, but he doesn’t care and sucks in a deep breath instead, gritting his teeth hard. At least he is feeling something.

He didn’t feel much when he was still taking his medication. But now the pain helps him to remember that he does exist.

Arthur submerges into the water with his eyes open, staring at the ugly green ceiling, and he holds his breath until his lungs start to burn.

It could end; his life – here and now. He doesn’t need a gun to kill himself or others. All he needs is an opportunity and a tool, like scissors – or water.

_But there is no audience here. It wouldn’t matter._

The burning gets unbearable; he needs air.

_Arthur still wouldn’t matter. What would be the message then?_

He grabs the edges of the tub and pulls himself up swiftly; surfacing with a frantic gasp for air.

The water splashes and spills onto the floor; washing over the bloody footprints and cleaning the pink tiles roughly.

The green dye drips from the tips of his hair strands and mixes with the reddish color of the bathwater, now that the blood on his body has dissolved.

Arthur is panting and he can feel his heart hammering against his rib cage. There is this sudden euphoric feeling running through his body; just like the time he killed those three brokers on the subway.

The memory makes him smile again. 

He licks his lips once more and spits into the bathwater next. The flavor of blood is gone at least.

* * *

Arthur straightens his red suit jacket and smooths down the fabric of his sleeves. His makeup is freshly applied and finished without any more interruption. He lights a cigarette and puts the pack into one of his inside pockets.

“Well, Randall”

He steps out into the hall, smiling and twisting on the spot elegantly. 

“– how do I look?”

The corpse still lays where Arthur left it, of course, and he notices that most of the blood on Randall’s face has dried up, but the puddle on the floor is still damp.

The sudden stench of shit catches Arthur off guard and he wrinkles his nose in disgust. “God damn, buddy,”

He takes a long drag and blows out smoke to cover the smell. “– you really got what you deserve. I’m not even sorry, Randall”, Arthur mutters as he hovers over Randall’s corpse and he flicks the pair of scissors still stuck in his right eye playfully.

Arthur giggles, but clicks his tongue next and dips his finger into the puddle of blood.

“and you’re _still_ missing something. That’s exactly why you sucked as a party clown and I didn’t.”

He draws an exaggerated smile around Randall’s mouth, up to his cheeks and it resembles the one Arthur put on his own lips.

Arthur wipes his fingertip on Randall’s shirt nonchalantly and takes a step back to admire his work.

“See? A smile does make a change.”


End file.
